


These Words are Knives

by brendons_glasses



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Anorexia, Brendon Urie - Freeform, Bulimia, Dallon Weekes - Freeform, Eating Disorder, Gay, M/M, Panic! at the Disco - Freeform, Sad, Self Harm, Ship, brallon, idkhbtfm, to weird to live too rare to die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 20:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17515280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brendons_glasses/pseuds/brendons_glasses
Summary: Dallon tours with Panic! At The Disco during the too weird to live too rare to die era, hiding his dirty little secrets. Secrets that he hides beneath his sleeves. Secrets deep in his mind.Brendon is just begging to know what is up with his tall and beautiful bassist.Also, I wrote this a while ago so Kenny is in it, sorry





	These Words are Knives

**Author's Note:**

> This has possibly triggering topics like eating disorders and self harm so uhhh yah be careful

Dallon point of view  
I lie awake in my bunk, just like every night. It is around two am and nobody is awake, just me and my thoughts. Touring with Panic! Has its ups and downs, but most of the ‘downs’ are my stupid fault. I’m absolutely terrible at what I do and I can’t possibly fathom why Brendon would hire me.   
Everyone on Twitter loves to remind me of how worthless I am.   
I sigh and roll over in my bunk, then hop down and take a moment to steady myself on the moving bus. I walk quietly to the small bathroom and flip on the light.   
I stare at myself a moment, grimacing. I barely even recognize myself anymore. The dark bags under my eyes a deadly purple and my dark hair droops grimly over my dull, grey eyes. With a deep sigh, I shake my head and remove the case from my phone, two shiny metal blades falling out.   
I pick up the sharpest of the two and pull up my sleeve. If we weren’t on tour, I would probably kill myself, but I can’t. It would be selfish, to the band and to all the fans. I’d rather be known as the ‘worthless fag of Panic! At The Disco’ than the idiot who ruined tour by killing himself.   
I cut a few lines here and there and some x’s on the inside of my wrist then put the blade away, waiting for the blood to stop dripping and clot.   
When I open the door, I am met with a sleepy and shirtless Brendon. “What are you doing up, Dal?” He asks, rubbing his eyes.   
“I could ask you the same thing.” I smile down at him, ignoring the constant stinging in my wrists. “Got thirsty, now why are you awake? Have you been crying?” I lean back into the bathroom and look in the mirror, sure enough my eyes are red and there are tear stains on my cheeks. “I had an eyelash in my eye. Don’t worry about it.” He cocks and eyebrow and looks up at me, this time more awake.   
“You know I’m always here if you need someone to talk to, right?” “I know Brendon. I’m fine. Get some sleep okay?” I pat him on the back and he nods, yawning. I return to my bunk and drift off into a restless sleep.  
\----  
“Dallon wake up! We are at the venue!” I wake up to Brendon shaking me, a smile on his dumb, beautiful face. “Nope not today!” I say, covering myself with my blanket. “Come on Dal we are going to go get breakfast!” He grabs my wrist and I wince in pain, recoiling. “Well I guess I HAVE to get up now don’t I?” I say, getting up out of my bunk. “Great! Now hurry up and get dressed so we can go okay?” He slaps my butt then runs off, making me blush.   
He has always been flirty with me, hell, he gropes and kisses me every chance he gets on stage but that is probably all just for show. Who could love someone like me anyway?  
Once I think I look presentable enough, I head out and meet the guys outside the tour bus, Brendon runs over to me and links his arm with mine.   
“So Dallon, my tall glass of water, how did you sleep last night?” Terrible. “I slept alright, how did you sleep, Brendon Boyd?” He giggles and tells me he slept well, making me smile as we get in the black van.   
Brendon sits up front with Zack, Dan and Kenny in the row behind them, I sit in the way back, like always. (the 12 inch pianist arrangement) I stare at the window as they start talking about tour stuff, and I remember that I have to eat soon.   
I have been eating so much lately and I haven’t even realized it. I’m so stupid. I will just get a water and only eat a few bites of whatever I order. It will be fine. Everything is-   
“Dallon!” I snap out of my thoughts and see that everyone is staring at me, Brendon laughing slightly. “You good?” Zack asks, I nod quickly and we all get out of the van and head into the small diner.   
We sit down and order our food, talking amongst ourselves. “Hey Dallon, I hate to bother you but are you okay? You seem a bit off.” “Brendon I’m fine.” He chews on his sleeve a bit and looks at me, “Are you sure?” “Yes.” I snap, he rolls his eyes and the food comes, distracting everyone.   
I only eat a few bites of my pancakes and drink all of my water, but I still feel disgusting. “I’ll be right back.” Brendon nods and I go to the bathroom, find a stall and get on my knees.   
\--brendon point of view--  
Something was not quite right with Dallon. He usually seems sad but he said that he has ‘resting sad face’ or whatever, but this time he looks actually sad. “I’m gonna go check on him.”   
“Brendon has a crush! Brendon has a crush!” Kenny says, laughing and pointing. I throw a straw wrapper at him then walk off to find the beautiful bassist.   
When I walk into the bathroom, I hear the toilet flush and Dallon emerges from the stall, his eyes bloodshot.   
“Woah what happened?” I say, looking up at the tall man, he looks startled at first then goes to wash his hands. “I have really bad allergies, you know that Bren” He says, chuckling. His voice is hoarse and wavering slightly. “Uh sure, allergies.” He finishes drying his hands and looks at me. “Are we going to go back out there or..?” I keep staring at him, there has to be SOMETHING wrong. “Are you stoned? It doesn’t smell like weed in here though I don’t know how you could be.” “Brendon, allergies. Let’s go before Kenny thinks I’m sucking your dick or something.” He puts a hand on my back and turns me around and we walk out.   
He is lying to me.


End file.
